


Shape of You

by Siren_Of_Old



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Drinking, Kissing While Drunk, M/M, SO, Song fic, Sort Of, Underage Drinking, Yuri takes one sip of Otabek's drink, conversations on sobreity, he chokes, woot!!!!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-16
Updated: 2017-10-16
Packaged: 2019-01-18 06:55:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12383151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Siren_Of_Old/pseuds/Siren_Of_Old
Summary: Have some cute SeungChuChu. I know I was thirsting for it xD





	Shape of You

**Author's Note:**

> Have some cute SeungChuChu. I know I was thirsting for it xD

Why was he here again?

“Question of the century,” he muttered to himself as his skating colleagues laughed and drank around him. He worried his fingers over the lip of his glass, staring down into the fruit drink that Nikiforov had gave him when he ordered a new round for everyone.

He supposed that it wasn’t every day that they all got the chance to be together like this. Normally, a competition loomed over them, making them sober and focused. But, with an invitation to stay together in Japan after the Grand Prix Final, it was a different story. To see his acquaintances in such a happy, drunken state was amusing, if not a little nice if he were honest.

“I still don’t know why I’m not allowed to have a drink,” Plisetsky whined from across the large booth, leaning his head against Altin’s shoulder. Seung-gil watched as the other stoic man brushed the Russian’s blond hair back, smiling down at him.

“Because you’re still underage by this country’s standards, Yura.” Altin told him in a soft voice, making Plisetsky’s face turn red as he glowered up at the Kazakh man. He laughed, pushing his gin towards the Russian. “One sip, Yura. And only one. I don’t want you feeling sick on the flight home.”

Altin caught Seung-gil’s eyes as Yuri took a small sip, and proceeded to choke on it. The two shared an amused smile before Seung-gil’s eyes drifted around the table once more.

Giacometti and Nikiforov were doing shots and switching between their mother languages as they laughed together, Katsuki pressed into Nikiforov’s side. Beside them, de la Iglesia and Guang-Hong giggled with their heads together, stopping every once in a while to stare at each other in silence. Seung-gil wanted to mush their faces together and just get it over with.

“I can have a drink if I want to, Mickey!” Crispino exclaimed from her spot next to Seung-gil. The Korean man regretted his seating choice as she growled in Italian under her breath, before knocking back the shot that Babicheva had brought her from the bar. The male Crispino looked positively scandalized, his head dropping onto Nekola’s shoulder as his sister laughed with the red-headed Russian.

Seung-gil was contemplating his escape of the festivities when a tray of shots was plunked down in front of him. Looking up, he saw Chulanont’s bright smile as he slid into the empty seat on the other side of him.

“Do shots with me?” He asked in a giggly voice, his winged eyeliner glittery in the bar’s lights. Seung-gil found himself nodding before he could actually think about the consequences.

 “Why did I agree to this?” Seung-gil bemoaned after his seventh shot. His stomach gurgled as he downed the next one, Chulanont’s laughter tinkling in his ears. The Thai man was pressed up against his side, grin wide as he drinks his- was it his twelfth? - shot. The only other ones at the booth were Nikiforov and Katsuki, but they’re too interested in each other’s mouths to comment on the way Chulanont’s hand runs down Seung-gil’s chest, hooking his first two fingers into his waistband. The rest of the skaters had taken up the dance floor, laughing as they twirled each other around and around.

“I’m glad you did,” Phichit chirped happily, leaning his head back against the booth’s back. “I’m glad you’re here, Seung-gil. It’s nice to have you here with all of our friends.”

Seung-gil stared at the Thai man for a moment, before finding his voice again. “They’re my friends?”

Chulanont gaped at him, his bottom lip inviting Seung-gil to stare. “Of course they’re your friends! What’d you think they were?”

“Mere acquaintances,” Seung-gil shrugged, picking up another shot from their tray to knock back. Chulanont watched him, his eyes narrowed. Seung-gil shivered, “What is it?”

“Come dance with me, Mr. My-Friends-Are-Mere-Acquaintances.”

 “I don’t make friends very well,” Seung-gil stumbled as Chulanont dragged him out onto the dance floor by the hand. He watched as Babicheva shimmied up against Crispino, as Plisetsky wrapped his arms around Altin’s neck, as Guang-Hong practically grinded against de la Iglesia’s hips. “I’m not what you would call, sociable, Chulanont.”

“Don’t call me that,” Chulanont argued, guiding Seung-gil’s hands to his hips. “That’s part of the issue. You don’t treat people as potential friends.”

“To be honest, I’m not equipped with the necessary sunshine to see people as potential friends when I meet them, Chulanont.”

“Phichit,” Chul- Phichit reprimanded, smacking at his shoulder before wrapping his arms around his neck. “What do you mean sunshine?”

“You,” Seung-gil murmured, his hands feeling clammy against Phichit’s waist. “You’re so warm and bubbly and sunshine-y. People love you. I’m just cold and boring, so people don’t like me.”

“ _I_ like you,” Phichit told him, running a soft hand up his neck. Seung-gil shivered, his hands tightening on Phichit’s body.

“Like I said; people.”

“So, I’m not a person?” Phichit pouted, his bottom lip sticking out. Seung-gil realized that he must have some sort of lip gloss on because his lips were just as glittery as his eyeliner. Seung-gil shook his head slowly, trying to figure out why he felt so warm all of a sudden.

“No, you’re sunshine.”

“Seung-gil, I think you’re smashed,” Phichit giggled as he shuffled closer, pressing their bodies together until they lined up from sternum to knee almost. Seung-gil exhaled shakily, and moved his hands to Phichit’s back. “What am I going to do with you?”

“I mean, you could help me figure out why I’m so warm if you wanted to.”

Phichit quirked an eyebrow at him, “Warm?”

Seung-gil nodded, his head feeling a bit light. “Warm. I look at you and my stomach’s all warm and are you wearing lip gloss?”

Phichit giggled, sliding his hands into Seung-gil’s hair. “It’s strawberry. Want to taste it?”

“Sure,” Seung-gil smiled, feeling his heart start to race as Phichit leaned in closer, his body pressed hot up against his.

“Phichit-kun!”

Phichit groaned, looking over at Katsuki. The Japanese man was leaning heavily against Nikiforov, their faces stained red with alcohol. He waved, yelling something in Japanese, before Nikiforov tugged him along with a hand around his waist. Phichit’s face turned a dark cherry red before he turned back to Seung-gil.

“What’d he say?” Seung-gil asked as he leaned against Phichit, noticing that most of their acquaintances- where they really his friends? – had left money on their table and left. Phichit shook his head as he towed Seung-gil towards their table, before pulling out his wallet to throw a few twenties on the table to cover his drinks. Seung-gil followed his example, before shoving his wallet deep into his jeans pockets.

Phichit turned to him, a small smile on his face. “Did you still wanna taste my lip gloss?”

 

* * *

 

 

Seung-gil gasped against Phichit’s mouth as their lips met for the millionth time that night, his breathing shaky as he felt Phichit push the sliding door to Seung-gil’s room at Katsuki’s family inn open. It was pitch black inside, the only light coming from the hallway. Seung-gil fumbled to close the door behind him as Phichit’s gloss-tacky mouth moved down his throat.

“How are you actually interested in me?” Seung-gil found himself gasping as Phichit shuffled backwards, presumably to his futon. Phichit giggled in the dark, leaning forward to lick his way into Seung-gil’s mouth.

“How could I not be,” Phichit murmured against his lips, tugging on the collar of his shirt. “You’re so dark and mysterious. I’ve literally had the biggest crush on you since I met you.”

“Really?” Seung-gil asked in awe as the two of them fumbled their way down onto Phichit’s futon. The Thai man nodded against his jaw.

“Yuuri always used to tease me about it,” he whispered as he slid his hands up Seung-gil’s shirt. “He still does, actually. He told me to ‘use protection’ when he was leaving with Victor.”

“ _That’s_ what he said?” Seung-gil laughed as he leaned down to nose at Phichit’s face, kissing along his cheek. Phichit giggled, wrapping his arms around him as Seung-gil’s hands spread over Phichit’s sides. “We won’t though.”

Phichit jerked back, bumping his knee into Seung-gil’s and hissing at the ache. “What?”

Seung-gil nudged his forehead against Phichit’s, rubbing at his side comfortingly. “I really don’t want to sleep with you while we’re both drunk, Phichit. We still need to figure out if we want more from this, and I don’t want to regret this, or have you regret it.”

There was a pause before Phichit let out a tiny, content sigh and settled deeper into Seung-gil’s arms. “I can agree with that.”

“Okay,” Seung-gil whispered, tangling his legs up with Phichit’s. “I’m gonna sleep here with you, if that’s okay with you?”

“Of course,” Phichit murmured softly. “As long as you don’t mind cuddling with me.”

“I don’t think I could even try to bring myself to mind, if I’m honest.”

 

* * *

 

 

Seung-gil groaned as he slowly woke up, his head throbbing behind his temples. He found himself turning over onto his stomach, burying his face into his pillow to try and fall back asleep. But, a sweet smell filled his nostrils, making him draw back and peer around the room hazily. Phichit was nowhere to be seen, but Seung-gil knew that he’d been there with him last night. The sheets were rumpled on the opposite side of the futon, and there was an indent on the pillow too. He smiled slightly before pressing his face back into the pillow once more.

 

* * *

 

 

A week later, after everyone had gone to their respective countries, when Seung-gil received a text message from a contact name entirely composed of bright red hearts.

**To: Seung-gil**

**From:** **❤** **❤** **❤** **❤**

**What would you do if I told you that I was in Korea?**

He stared down at his screen and promptly walked straight into the kitchen counter. Hissing at the sudden pain, he rubbed at his hip as he slowly typed out a response.

**To:** **❤** **❤** **❤** **❤**

**From: Seung-gil**

**Phichit?**

He leaned up against the kitchen counter, reaching off to the side to grab a bit of the trail mix he’d been making. Munching on a few Chex crackers, he waited for a response. He didn’t have to wait long, what with Phichit being the phone-addict that he was.

**From:** **❤** **❤** **❤** **❤**

**To: Seung-gil**

**You bet your sweet ass, babe. Come answer your door.**

His door? Seung-gil choked as he swallowed, nearly dropping his phone onto the floor. Coughing harshly, he set the device down on the counter and made his way to the front door of his apartment.

Phichit stood on the other side, his forearm leaned against the door frame. He smirked when he saw Seung-gil’s shocked expression.

“Get ready,” he told him, nudging his way into Seung-gil’s apartment. He leaned against the door as it shut, his dark eyes twinkling at Seung-gil. The Korean man stared, his mouth wide open. Phichit leaned forward to softly press a hand against his chin, tipping his mouth closed. “We’re going on a date.”

 

* * *

 

 

 “You know,” Seung-gil murmured around a mouth full of noodles. Phichit made a noise of acknowledgment as he dug into another bite of food. Seung-gil found himself smiling as sauce dripped down his chin. “Most people ask if they can take a person on a date.”

“Since when have I been “most people”?” Phichit giggled, cupping a hand under his chin to save a few noodles. Seung-gil laughed, leaning forward to smudge the sauce from the corner of Phichit’s mouth. “Thank you.”

Seung-gil nodded, leaning back in his seat again. “So, what brings you to Korea?”

Phichit looked up, his eyes glinting as he smiled up at the other man. “You.”

“Oh?”

“Yes,” Phichit’s face turned a bit pink as he set down his chopsticks. “I wanted to talk about that night, if that’s okay?”

Seung-gil swallowed hard, feeling nerves tighten in his stomach. “What part?”

“All the parts,” Phichit tipped one shoulder up, eyes shy when he met Seung-gil’s gaze. “I’m still very interested in you, and I know you wanted us to be sober when we talked. So I came to you.”

Mouth dry, Seung-gil stared at the man across from him. Red bloomed over tan cheeks before Phichit broke their gazes, looking over to the side. Seung-gil tried to clear his throat and get his heart back down into his chest.

“I’m still interested in you too,” he confessed, gesturing with his chopsticks. Phichit’s mouth fell open as he looked back up at him. Seung-gil felt himself blush, before he stuffed noodles into his mouth and looked away.

Phichit made a happy noise watching him. “So, are we boyfriends now?”

Seung-gil smiled, swallowing his food, “I’d love us to be.”

 

* * *

 

 “Are you staying long?” Seung-gil asked on the way back to his place, hand clutched within Phichit’s on the seat of the cab. Phichit hummed, nuzzling his face into the side of Seung-gil’s neck.

“I got Ciao Ciao to give me about a week off to come see you,” Phichit told him, looking up with doe brown eyes. “And I was kind of hoping I could stay with you, instead of some gross hotel.”

“You just want to steal all my covers again,” Seung-gil muttered under his breath, making his boyfriend- oh, _my_ \- laugh. Joy swelled in his chest, making him feel like he was choking on his heart again.

“You’re not wrong.”

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Comment and Kudos as you please! ^^


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